(Greek Mythology) The Abyss
Chapter 3
He created Hell from the Abyss. The Hades of later generations is only a part of Hell; of course, the concept of the Hades doesn't exist yet. Because of the laws he controlled, the Underworld is forever desolate and deathly, its lowest level permeated with the aura of death. The lowest level, where he resides, is the worst; no god can linger there except for himself, the lord of the Abyss. He certainly had the ability to transform the Underworld's environment, but unfortunately, he had no interest in it. Since he himself was unaffected, what did it matter to him?
Having fulfilled his duty of creating the Underworld, Tartarus wasn't finished. Chaos, using his position as the eldest brother, had made him teach his newborn siblings.
Gods have their own inherited memories; for him to teach them was simply a joke. No one would believe it wasn't intentional, and Tartarus, knowing Chaos's wicked nature, certainly wouldn't believe it either. He had nothing more to say about Chaos's act of causing him trouble even before falling into slumber.
Tartarus was dissatisfied, and so were the other Gatan gods. There was nothing they could do; Tartarus was in his youthful form. Gods' full power was only unleashed in adulthood. Even if Tartarus was stronger than them, how much stronger could he really be? This world didn't have a primogeniture system; the so-called eldest brother was just a title, insufficient to command respect. Although they agreed out of obligation, it was only a facade.
And the consequences… seeing the divine power and screams flying together, blood mingling with dust, what more could be said?
After throwing Erebus out again, Tartarus brushed off non-existent dust from his body, looking clean and tidy as if he hadn't just beaten his brother.
Judging Erebus's injuries and looking at the aftermath of the disaster, Nyx silently turned his head away. His eldest brother was as ruthless as ever. He was glad he hadn't joined them in provoking him.
Eros stood to the side, a bitter face on his face. He really didn't want to get beaten up. Was it too late to run away? (Believe me, you'd die a much worse death that way.)
Just what he feared most came to pass. Tartarus looked over. "Eros, it's your turn."
Taking a deep breath, Eros walked over with a look of grim determination. A river of sorrow welled up inside him. He was wrong. He shouldn't have agreed to join them in provoking their older brother under the guise of seeking guidance.
He still remembered how their older brother had looked at them with a half-smile after hearing their words, not only readily agreeing but also asking them what they thought about sparring every now and then. And they had foolishly agreed, it was almost too sweet to watch. (They really brought this on themselves.)
After Eros's glorious demise, Tartarus turned his gaze to Gaia. After thinking for a moment, he decided to let her go, much to Gaia's relief.
In Tartarus's eyes, his sister and brother were different. He could do whatever he wanted with his brother, and if he dared to provoke him, he wouldn't hold back. His sister, however, was different. Deeply influenced by his past life, he always believed that it was normal for girls to be a little spoiled. This idea came from his aunt, a woman who desperately wanted a daughter but couldn't have one. Out of resentment, she had once raised his nephew, who had delicate features like a woman, as her daughter—a dark history he could never forget. But she was also genuinely good to him. Compared to his irresponsible biological mother, he actually preferred to see his aunt as his mother, and was therefore deeply influenced by her in many ways.
After finishing his "teaching" (beating them up), Tartarus felt much better. He felt no remorse for building his happiness on others' suffering. Anyone who dared to provoke him should be prepared to bear the consequences. Besides, no one could deny that this had indeed honed their fighting skills, hadn't it? He was doing it for their own good. (Don't you feel guilty saying that?)
He successfully restored their respect and established Tartarus's fatherly position. Tartarus was quite satisfied with this situation; the strong ruling is indeed a good system, at least for him. (Hey! That's not respect anymore, it's awe!)
It has to be said that Chaos was incredibly biased. Tartarus's innate strength far surpassed that of the other Gatan gods, and he had been personally taught by Chaos. His understanding of the laws and his application of power were on a completely different level; taking on four at once was no problem for him. Yet, as the one being favored, he felt no joy whatsoever, only unease. Chaos's attitude towards him was truly bizarre; he was completely unconcerned about Tartarus's deliberate disrespect, to a chilling degree.
He casually tossed aside the exquisite crystal goblet, letting the crimson liquid stain the carpet the same color. Tartarus's eyes darkened, a layer of ice forming in them. There must be some reason he didn't know.
Countless thoughts raced through his mind, but his expression gradually returned to calm. Actually, he didn't need to worry too much. Whatever the reason, he would find out someday.
(Tartarus was indulging in conspiracy theories, but in reality… he was overthinking it. There was a reason, of course, but it was definitely not what he imagined.)